It has officially been one year since I logged off of Facebook. Here’s what I’ve learned.
People will tell you to your face that they “miss your posts” but they won’t try to find out what happened to you or where you went.
People will also have not paid enough attention to your posts to know that you even left at all.
You are just a number. How many friends do you have.
Even if they were informed of your absence people will still assume you know about something they only know from Facebook.
There are people who will say they miss seeing your child’s pictures. Which is both annoying that they only want to see the Kid’s pictures, and creepy that they want to see the Kid’s pictures.
You do not miss the drama, “what I’m thankful for” posts, the pictures of famous people with quotes they never said superimposed over their faces, and the shared posts that are false information.
The time you would have spent on Facebook transfers over to other places, so you are still literally wasting time on social media.
People still don’t care or acknowledge your posts even if they’re on your “professional” page.
You do become less worried about what other people think but it never actually goes away.
You are significantly less likely to post something you’ll regret, that may or may not pertain to your primary means of employment.
The absence of hate for other people is refreshing and a relief. You only have to deal with the lingering and burning hate you have for aspects of your own life.
Lack of political argument has Ben positively delightful.
Simply put I highly recommend taking a sabbatical from social media. I haven’t completely left because I think I can make a name for myself in blogging and such. But that’s not gonna happen. But I’m a glutton for punishment so sue me.
Now, I owe absolutely no one an explanation. At the time I gave a brief (I think) explanation as to why I did it, on my personal page, and that was more than was required to give by any means. And to be honest, I have zero plans to go into it here.
I do, however, want to give a brief summery of what “life” has been like since I logged off.
Now, by “log off” I mean exactly what it says. I did not deactivate more did I delete my personal Facebook account. I logged off to avoid the ease of going back. I have kept my account on the offhand chance that someone might want to message me. I also communicate with my child’s daycare via Facebook messenger, and don’t want to lose that.
I have intentionally logged in probably less than ten times over these last 11+ months for various reasons. I added one of my managers so I can communicate with them via Messenger. I logged on to connect with a previously attached account (mostly Timehop). I have accidentally logged on via computer.
However, I still have my CrashdLanding Facebook page and the CrashdLanding Site Group. How do I manage those? Simple. A dummy account.
My dummy account is named based off a nickname given to me by a crazy old man that would come into RETAIL ESTABLISHMENT. Honestly he was in fact losing his marbles and I believe he passed away.
He had a joke, every time he came in. He always forgot he’d already told it to me. “Have you ever seen a catfish?” I can’t remember his version of the punchline, but here’s this:
I learned that he told it to multiple people about every time he walked into the store. Well, he rolled into the store. He started having to use the electric shopping carts.
He was also a bit inappropriate but many of us chalked it up to old age and his slipping sanity.
Unlike the old man who recently saw me in the floor and said “on your knees is a good place to be this morning.” I’m sure an old eastern KY man’s intention was a reference to praying on your knees. You know what, I’m gonna let myself believe that.
Anyway, he got to the point where he started calling me Catfish. “What are you doing, Catfish?” Probably because I started either calling him in the joke, or outright telling him he’s told me before.
I’m not bothered by telling the same joke over and over. I told fifteen people the other day this gem:
“Why do ducks have feathers? To cover their butt QUACKS.”
Anyway, he started calling me Catfish and it stuck. To me, no one else called me that. But it worked since my first name starts with a “C”. He knew that too, and he had also told me it was a pretty name.
Anyway, that explains the “C.F.” The surname aspect of the dummy account came from a thing I found. See, I used to… hm… be the person… who said hello to customers, that’s why my joker always saw me. So, I often swept the floors near the front and cleaned debris and baby diapers (yes, I said diapers) from shopping carts.
One day I found what appeared the be the Velcro backed name tag from an army or military uniform. The likelihood that they were gonna come looking for it coupled with my hoarder personality, slathered with my frustrating habit of putting things in my pocket just to keep from holding it and the “Keathley” name tag came home with me.
Did… did I steal that? AM I A THIEF?!
That was all about 10-12 years ago. From the joke to the name tag. And it was how C.F. “Catfish” Keathley was born. She has a backstory.
I used the name to create a Facebook account many years ago, for the purpose of deactivating my personal account, which I’ve done in multiple occasions. I very rarely post to the dummy account, but I use her to maintain my page and group.
When I logged out of my personal account I hoped to avoid some of the negative energy that social media can bring. It has, in the past, caused me a not unnoticed amount of emotional and mental distress. While I do get less of that from Facebook, I still have acceptance and acknowledgment issues with the rest of my social media accounts. But nowhere near what I was suffering with Facebook.
While there are benefits to my Facebook hiatus, there are negatives as well. Like not knowing how close my brother came to getting sucked up by a tornado in Wisconsin until my sister told me she saw it on Facebook. But he’s fine and probably jokes about it now.
There have been multiple people who have seen me in person and either said, “where did you go?” Or said “I miss your posts”. What bothers me is that, one, if they’d do a little digging theif could figure out what happened and two, they probably no where to find me but haven’t tried.
I find myself wondering if they were ever really my friend or I was just entertainment. I mean, yes, I’m hilarious, but I’m a person, too. Dang.
Anywho, I’m considering going back? After I’ve surpassed one year, to simply clean up my account. Delete some unnecessary photos, unattached from accounts. But it’ll feel almost like breaking my fast from Pepsi. You know, at one point I went almost two weeks without a Pepsi? And then one bad day and it was all ruined.
That being said, if I do break my fast, it’s gonna e after I’ve made it a full year. I will pride myself on that one thing, at least.
After Birthday Month Blogs and doing this blogging/writing/chaos thing for 30 days in a row, I feel like I’ve been slacking. I mean, I’ve published exactly two posts since the last day of BMB.
And despite the fact that I now know and understand that I won’t make any money off this blog/website, I still want to be here. So I’m developing a game plan.
Randomized Fiction
My first RF since the end of BMB was a total flop (meaning it’s still sitting unfinished in my drafts), the idea I had for it was *chefs kiss* but the switch in my brain got flipped into long form mode instead of short. I don’t want to bore you with it.
But since it’s not in high demand I’m going to work on it at post at my leisure. Which means I’ll probably put it off until I feel absolutely terrible and rush out some for awful crap BUT I’m gonna try to have it out by next Friday (8/19) when it would have been on Spotify.
That’s not to say it’s not still in my head. It’s there. Oh how it’s there.
BUT Randomized Fiction will still be a thing, at least until I get through all the options on the wheels. Then we will see.
Pretend Fantasy Novel
I’m going to start actively working on it next week. Well maybe Monday (8/15). What that means is posting regular updates (my definition of regular) to the FB page/group and polls. One of the first orders of business is AN ACTUAL TITLE. As with everything PFN related, it will be chosen via polls. All of said polls will be found on FB. Links will be added at the bottom of the page.
Premium Content
While any actual writing done in the PFN will be shared with the twelve main contributors to the FB Group, it will be available for wider release for sure in book and kindle book form.
But I plan on choosing one other long term project to focus on, in addition to PFN. This project will be shared chapter by chapter solely as premium content. This means that there will be pay wall where someone who wants to read the story gives me money and they are granted access.
This will not be like PFN in that a select few get the story for free. Since it will not be a community project, I don’t have that “they helped write it, they deserve early access” thing. It will, however, eventually be self-published, like PFN.
The title that I’ll be starting will be determined by…
Guess.
No go on. Guess!
YOU GUESSED IT!
As will ALL of my polls they’ll take place on my Facebook page.
I will first write up individual proposals for each story. I’ll ask the group to read them and after they’ve all been shared, I’ll post the poll. There will be at least three proposals, perhaps more.
The Pretend Fantasy Novel, the Mystery Project, and Randomized Fiction will be my only fictional projects until further notice. Unless I have some random inspiration and write my little heart out.
Other Content
I’m going to try do so more “weird news” content, like GIANT AFRICAN LAND SNAILS. I really get a kick out of those. And general nonsense. Also, I’d like to do another “You Don’t Need…” I’m thinking of turning that series into podcasts episodes as well.
All Randomized Fiction will be available for listening on Spotify. Were I wealthier and could justify spending the money, I’d make them available on Apple Podcasts as well. But right now I talked myself out of a $22 sweater at Walmart cause I accidentally double paid my one of my credit card payments. So, like. Broke.
Anywho, that’s the rough draft of the plan right now. I’ll keep ya updated. Check the socials below for more accurate weather forecasts. Wait.
Ap Harbor is musical group from Eastern Kentucky. Their Facebook page describes them as “whimsical and weird music from Kentucky.” Which I think is very accurate! They are a new updated “rebrand” of a former group called “The Woodsheep”. If you’ve been with me a minute you might know about them through another post. The rebrand is due to many factors, including but not limited to the Pandemic, life changes, and updating their sound.
Track Listing
The Overthere Chair*
Fiction
The Wind That Blows Through Its Branches*
The Mountain Wayfarers*
Cycles*
Hunting Hound
Cranberry Lane*
Ariel
The Amygdala Goes “Auck, Auck, Auck!”*
The Trumpeter*
A Hook*
The River Drane
Don’t Burn That Bread (So Help Me God)*
10 Watt Moon*
Winter in the Tire Stacks
The Album “The Wiser Moon” is a compilation of old and new. The old being rerecorded and updated versions of previously released original songs. These songs were released in different forms on other albums.
My Favorites
Fiction
I enjoy all the songs on the album. I should, considering I’ve been following along with Andrew Preston (The Ap in Ap Harbor) and all the iterations of his music career for a while now. But I think on this album my favorite is “Fiction”. One of the new tracks, written with his grandmother in mind (who might be his biggest fan) and an elementary incident with “The Very Hungry Caterpillar”. The track includes audio of her, and not only does it help bring the story home, but her voice also reminds me of my own mom, and home. Watch the very clever video below.
Cranberry Lane
The first time, and every single time I hear this song in any form, my first is that it is a lullaby. It’s a children’s lullaby. The vocals are soft and pleasant, and the whistling adds to the peaceful relaxing feel of the track. Also, as a someone with a writer brain, I visualize “Cranberry World”. I have been tempted many times to sing this to The Kid when she’s falling asleep. In fact, The Kid also approves.
10 Watt Moon
It’s the visual for me. In this song is about bad men coming and stealing the moon, only to replace it with a lightbulb. Can you imagine waking up to the moon, whom we all recognize, being replaced with a 10-watt lightbulb? What would that light look like?
In Conclusion.
The vibe that this album gives me is indeed weird and whimsical. As someone who tends to listen to only the music on her iTunes, which rarely changes and has song’s I’ve had for literal decades, the unique feel that Ap Harbor provides on “The Wiser Moon” is not what I would have sought out. And had I not known Andrew previously I might never have encountered it (I am old and set in my ways after all). But that’s not to say I’m not glad to have enriched my playlist with this album.
When I listen to The Wiser Moon in its entirety, I see a mix of fantasy worlds, with a little The Wind in the Willows, a little fairytale, and with just a little bit of sea adventure. It’s a fun, curious little trip around a quirky world with interesting characters and sounds.
Randomized fiction is me wanting to write something fictional but being too lazy to do the work myself.
As explained in the very poorly done video (I hate the sound of my own voice), I used a random word generator to choose six nouns to pair with the six words chosen by members of the CrashdLanding Site group on Facebook, and added them to a wheel app that I downloaded to my phone. I spun the wheel to choose the words.
If we’re being technical the “siblings” one was a bit more specific at first. Also I edited out the names of the people who added them for privacy reasons.
Expect it for Fiction Friday. If it’s not posted before midnight Friday call me on it.
Seriously, I put things off for multiple reasons but mostly cause of exhaustion and fear I’d not good enough. I really see some potential in this.
If I continue with the wheels I have, I’ll remove already used options, maybe. Probably. I don’t know. The melatonin is hitting.
First off the birthday is not the day you were born but the anniversary of the day you were born. Wait. Duh.
Someone once said to me that your first birthday was actually your second birthday because the day you were born is the first. But the day you celebrate every year is your birthday, so it’s the anniversary of the day you came out of your momma, in whatever method. That day is the first of the rest of your life.
That all sounds more like a shower thought.
According to this random website I found when googling why do we celebrate birthdays, the tradition of celebrating widespread only goes as far back as the 19th century, when people began to actually like kids?
Apparently if you read up on it, it gets super sexist. Romans were among the first to celebrate but only the men’s birthdays.
Assigning numbers to someone’s existence
I could say something profound and deep here about how age is just a number placed upon a person numbering their days of suffering upon the earth. A number which can determine their worth and value to other people depending on their path and station in life.
But it’s legit just the number of rotations you’ve ridden this rollercoaster of life around the sun. With each and every turn of this constant spin cycle your body decides to quit more and more tasks at an alarmingly faster rate.
Girl, you ok?
I’m fine, chill.
But there are not many people who can, with all honestly, tell you that it doesn’t make them feel good when someone wished them a happy birthday. Yesterday the young lady (that makes me sound super old), whom I don’t think I’ve ever seen before in my entire life, wished me a happy birthday. It made me feel quite good.
Today, my sister in law walked back into a store after having left it, just to be sure she told me happy birthday.
Despite the fact that I have been away from it for 200+ days, I’m sure I have at least a few Facebook birthday wishes, and I feel awful for not responding to them.
Six years ago, my family surprised me with a little birthday party. We had homemade pizzas and they got me gifts.
A whole day celebrating you. You were born and someone wants you to have a good day. People care. That’s important.
There have been years that I have not wanted to celebrate at all. I have not wanted to acknowledge my birthday. But my husband would never not do something. Because he loves me, in-spite of all my nonsense, he loves me.
Sure, you’re one year older
But you don’t have to look at it that way. You’ve survived yet another ride on this carousel of chaos, you’ve lived to blow out another candle, or listen to another Happy Birthday song. However you recognize the yearly event of still kicking around this big, oddly shaped, not quite round ball of blue and green, you did it, and there might be one or two people out there who are glad you did.
And that can make you feel pretty darn good. Even if you’re turning 37. Again.
After obsessively posting about and telling literally everyone, not a single soul showed up to my child’s birthday party. We sent invites to her class, I created an event on Facebook which I shared repeatedly, I told people numerous times and verbally invited them. Most people said they’d try to come, said “maybe” to the event invite. One person messaged in the middle of the party and sent a gift but had “more important” things to do. No one else messaged or called or even said anything when I saw them in person. We paid a lot of money and no one came. Except my sister and her crew and I will be forever grateful to her. My baby had fun because of them. I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps I was the reason no one came. So I needed space from the people who swore they would have been there.
I’ve spent way too much time falsely believing that I could find acceptance on social media. I found myself spending more time trying to think of posts that would make people like me than I should have. I like making people laugh—whether or not it’s at my own expense. My brain believes that it means they truly like me when in fact they’re just laughing at me. All I’ve ever wanted was to have friends and for people to like me. But perhaps it’s not my fault if someone doesn’t like me. They don’t have too.
HATE: hate on each other, hate on one’s personality, beliefs, hating people for things they cannot change about themselves. people hating other people for their political affiliation, for their actions, for their way of life. Hate hate hate. Hate is poison and gets us absolutely no where.
Scams for views: On Facebook, if you have a page, the more likes you get the more/easier you get seen. I have a Facebook page as my readers well know. I can access how much my page has be viewed. Views lead to new views. Views equal money. Nefarious pages post scams or clickbait in order to gain views. I’ve gotten pretty ok at spotting these. There are several people on my friends’ list that share these without a second thought.
“Friends” People who have added me on Facebook, but barely speak to me in real life. Heck most of them barely spoke to me o Facebook. There’s a list, to be honest, of those people. I’ve begun the “don’t speak first” protocol to determine whether I’m a reality friend or a Facebook friend. It’s been leaning pretty exclusively to Facebook.
My mental health: I have lost a lot of friends without even trying. They’ve just disappeared. Not in reality. No they’re alive. They’ve just decided to make a new Facebook and not re-ad me. Or they just ignored me completed despite a direct message, so I was done. This is the “Don’t Push Where There is No Pull Protocol”. If you try to be a friend and they don’t reciprocate, give up. Dwelling on whether or not someone likes you or their lying is absolutely damaging.
Regrets?
A few. That the people that actually cared about what I did on Facebook are missing me. That I don’t get to see when my sister posts or my friend’s babies are posted. My my family. That all the people who have their own Pages for their small businesses don’t get my attention anymore.
But because I use a dummy account to access my Facebook Page, I can search for certain things I want to see. My Kid’s school page, her daycare—though they don’t post her anymore. I can still view my Friend’s pages. I don’t like them with the Dummy, because I don’t want it to be found. Dummy has no friends and she likes it that way.
I can’t say my mental health has improved immensely. I probably have several undiagnosed issues. But I don’t go to a doctor when I feel like I was hit by I was struck by a BUS. But I can say that it hasn’t helped.
Well, the kid is rubbing her eyes and I’m yawning. So time for bed.
Gonna try and be more consistent. It’s been bonkers lately. Goodnight!
As I begin once again to travel the darkened path leading me into and through a probable mental breakdown, I can only hope that I traverse the path and come out the other side relatively intact.
I am always struggling. This is all due to a combination of emotional retardation exacerbated by keeping my problems locked away inside my own mind, constant exhaustion, and an insatiable need to be liked by everyone.
This go ‘round the never ending cycle, the triggers were many. Here’s a list of them in no particular order.
I paid all my bills out of one check and ended up struggling to have enough money to pay for the continuation of this websites features. But I guess my bills are paid so oh well?
Wondering why I’m even paying for the site when I get absolutely nothing back from it. I mean I enjoy doing it but at what cost (roughly $180 a year, actually)?
My truck decided to completely stall while idling IN THE PARENT PICKUP LINE. Two other parents got out of their vehicles and pushed me to the side. In reality I realize it was not out of the kindness of their hearts but because of the inconvenience of my dead truck in their way. Now there’s ANOTHER part I need to buy. Again. No money.
I made the mistake of looking at education related job opening info at the school my child goes to. And realized very quickly once again that I’ll never be a teacher because it’s been way to long. Also I’m dumb.
Two people from my work have been promoted to upper management. This in and of itself is not the problem. The problem is that both of them are-give or take-ten years younger than me. They’ve both worked for the company for less than half the amount of time I have. And through all fault of my own I am still low on the totem pole and I’m still making less that $15 an hour even though I’m getting a raise. Though they will never read this: congrats and good luck to both of them. They’ll make great upper managers, I wish them nothing but the best. We will all miss them at our location.
So why is the title “the future ofCrashdLanding”?
In a year, when the payment comes due, for all the thingamajigs related to keeping this site alive, I will very likely save my hard earned money and not renew it.
All I ever wanted with this site, my Facebook page, the group, Instagram BOB HOW MANY SOCIALS DO I HAVE was promoting myself and all the nonsense I do, so that I might make a profit off doing something I love.
I can’t be a teacher because I made the ill-fated decision to take time off, and get any job so my husband didn’t have to keep paying my student loan payment. I’d told myself six months. Six months turned into thirteen years. And I’m basically back where I started.
I loved being in a classroom. I loved teaching, what little I got to do. I am a different person now and I think I’d be better at it now than I would have thirteen years ago.
No one wants to buy the jewelry I make. No one wants my resin products. I did not lose interest in those things I lost hope. Why sit under crouched over a pair of pliers and beads, why break my back and breathe in resin fumes if it’s only going to gather dust on a shelf.
I’m exhausted all the time and I’d have an easier time getting lemon juice from an orange than I have getting fictional words on paper.
All these things are things I love (including this silly little blog in this silly little site). But I’m getting nothing out of it. There’s a lot of time and effort going into this.
So, I’m gonna try and write that pretend fantasy novel. It’ll be available to read, probably chapter by chapter, for a $10 a year subscription. Unless you’re one of the 12 or so people whose names I’ve written down who get free access.
I’m gonna try to write “The Silent Secret” which will also be available via the subscription.
If you’re reading this in March 2023 (and the world as we know it hasn’t ended in WW3) and that subscription is still active and things are posted regularly then I haven’t given up, found a warm cave, and hibernated away from my problems and the world’s chaos.
Right now though, at basically the end of February 2022, I’m super sleepy. So. G’nite.
If you made it this far, as always, thanks for reading.
-c
Don’t get the wrong idea, absolutely ZERO PERCENT of this has anything at all to do with me ending my life.
My most popular (but mostly with the people who were in it and know me) story will be a decade old in November. Here’s a little throwback to poor video making skills.
Regardless of all the typos, run-ons, inconsistencies, and bloopers, it’ll always hold a special place in my heart.
Crash Landing 